


When the white moonlight shines down on us tonight

by changdori (janie6789)



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, gisaeng AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie6789/pseuds/changdori
Summary: "When we turn fourteen, we will become gisaengs, whether we like it or not, since we've been registered as such," explained Changmin, not for one moment taking his eyes off of Yunho. "But there is a high class of gisaengs that you can belong to, when you will never have to be touched. Your job is to perform music and dance, and to provide conversation and poetry — but never to go to bed with someone. That's what I'm going to try to be."
Relationships: Jung Yunho/Shim Changmin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	When the white moonlight shines down on us tonight

**Author's Note:**

> *gisaeng: artistically trained courtesans of the outcast or slave class who provided artistic entertainment and conversation to nobles
> 
> *gibang: an entertainment establishment that housed gisaengs

It was a day that Changmin would never forget.

It had begun like any other, Changmin having slept through most of the morning and waking just before noon to sweep the even stone walkway before getting on with the rest of the chores, was when the other boy stumbled in, led there by three or four men that Changmin had not seen before.

The boy was young, maybe ten or eleven, and clearly a slave too, judging by the colour of his tattered clothes and the way that they were cut. It had been a while since Changmin had seen another boy his age, so he looked on with interest, though he didn't dare stop sweeping. The boy was clearly afraid, shaking from head to toe, and he had his fists clenched. As if he was going to start fighting. Changmin had to stifle a chuckle.

Fortunately, Changmin had just turned his attention back to his sweeping when the head madam of the gisaeng house, Maehwa, stepped out from the main house, right onto the walkway that Changmin was sweeping. He got out of the way and bowed as she walked gracefully towards the men — in such contrast with them, in the way that she was dressed in the finest silks and groomed with the most fragrant oils, and the way she held herself, so elegant and dignified. As always, she carried a thin wooden stick with her, which Changmin had come to fear.

"Do pass on my gratitude to your master," Maehwa said to them with her head held high. "I'm sure he will make a wonderful addition to our _gibang_."

Changmin's heart had positively _leaped_ with that — perhaps the first time in his life that he'd ever felt this emotion — and the excitement was bubbling up in his chest —

Until the boy dared to raise his head, and _glare_. It was a fierce glare, the intense, dark eyes aimed straight at the madam.

He was not scary, by any means. He was a little boy, after all, and he was actually very pretty, almost feminine — save for the glare, the lines of his face were soft, no sharp angles anywhere.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, he spoke through his clenched teeth.

"I would _die_ before becoming a gisaeng."

Changmin just watched, raising his eyebrows. He wondered where this useless courage came from. He half expected the madam to raise a hand to the young boy, but he should have known — she would never do so in the company of anyone outside this gibang, even if they were just servants.

The madam didn't even address the boy directly. Instead, she dismissed the servants who brought the boy and called for the gibang's own. "Strip the boy naked and tie him to the oak tree by the shed," she ordered unfeelingly when they arrived moments later. "And make sure that not a single person gives him even a drop of water to drink."

Changmin watched as the men took him away, out of sight. He barely had the time to feel sympathy for the young boy — it was complicated, because clearly, the boy was putting himself through this ordeal unnecessarily — when a stinging hit of the stick landed on the back of his legs, making him yelp.

"Get back to work. I won't have a lazy pig in this gibang."

Changmin bowed and said an apology before continuing on with his chores with a wince — above all else, hoping that Maehwa will soon forget this infraction and won't think that he is a lazy pig.

The training at the gibang began in the afternoon. There was a short lesson where the dozen young gisaeng-to-bes learned to read and write, albeit superficially, then they spent the rest of the afternoon learning to sing, dance, and play instruments.

It was all intricate, tricky business; and while poems and songs came naturally to Changmin, he was often scolded for having two left feet when it came to dance. Changmin knew this, and he'd been spending some time outside to lessons to become more graceful. Because he had to be.

Then in the evening was when the real work began.

The young slaves were kept in the back, helping prepare food and drinks for the tables, and the tobacco and bedding for the rooms. They were kept away from the sights of customers because they were not ready to serve as gisaengs, and Maehwa didn't want to put herself into a position of being forced to promote a young trainee into the gisaeng role before they were fully ready.

In a twisted way — and yes, he knew it was twisted — Changmin considered himself lucky.

So he never complained when he was made to stay up all night, running errands from the kitchens. And towards the end of the night, when he was tasked to fetch more alcohol from the shed, he obeyed quickly.

He almost jumped when he got to the shed — he'd almost forgotten about the new boy, and he certainly wasn't expecting to see the movement that he did by the tree near the shed.

He ignored the boy and entered the shed, retrieved the pot of alcohol that was much too heavy for him, and closed the door with his foot, careful not to drop the pot. He heard a sniffle and he turned his head towards the boy; and they locked eyes for a split second.

Changmin turned away rather quickly, he didn't really want to involve himself with anything, when the boy spoke.

"Help me."

It was hard to ignore the hoarse voice. Changmin turned around and looked at the other boy, who was sitting naked with his back to the tree that he was tied to.

"Help you with what?"

"Get out of here."

"Where are you going to go?"

"Away from here."

"That's not an answer," said Changmin quietly.

"Anywhere but here," the boy replied stubbornly.

Changmin sighed. "There's no house in this city who doesn't know Madam, and the next village is a day's walk away. We are government-owned, and the soldiers will find you in less than an hour, no matter how fast you run. And when they bring you back, being tied to this tree is going to be the least of your problems." He looked the other boy in the eyes. "So where are you going to go?"

The boy was silent, and Changmin looked at him with pity.

"I'll bring you some water later, if I can. But I won't help you run when you don't even know where you're going to go."

Changmin never ended up being able to bring the water that night, because there was always someone around after that, even though he did lurk around whenever he found the time.

Just when the dawn was breaking and all of the customers had either left or had fallen asleep in one of the rooms, he walked around the back of the house to the shed again — but one of the adult servants was there, and he had to give up and go back to his own quarters.

The next day and night was the same thing. Actually, one of the girls tried to give him water, but she got in trouble for that.

Changmin definitely did not want to be in her place.

The morning of the third day was when the boy looked very, very unwell.

Everyone else was ignoring the boy, and Changmin wanted to too, desperately. And in the past, when something like this happened, Changmin had no problem ignoring them.

But this was different — maybe because he was the first young boy to step foot in this gibang since Changmin ended up there, and Changmin did not want him to go through unnecessary suffering. And, perhaps selfishly, he wanted to have someone who would be his friend.

He convinced himself then dissuaded himself a hundred times before approaching Maehwa, but when he saw her sitting leisurely on the wooden deck under the roof after he'd just finished his lessons of the day, smoking her pipe, he knew this may be his only chance.

Changmin had never spoken to the head lady first; he was to be there when she needed him, not the other way around. So he approached her very carefully.

"Madam," said Changmin cautiously. Maehwa barely turned her head in his direction, and Changmin bowed to her as she did. She looked away just as quickly, showing with actions that she could not be bothered with him. She did not give explicit permission to speak, but Changmin went on anyway, eyeing her wooden stick warily.

"I was hoping you would allow me to try to work with the new boy."

That seemed to get her attention, because she turned her head towards him fully.

"What for?" she asked sharply.

"I… thought maybe I'd be able to help him see that what he's doing is meaningless," said Changmin timidly.

Maehwa let out a short laugh.

"He is not the first defiant slave to come through the gibang, nor will he be the last. There already is a process that we apply in these situations."

A rock dropped to the pit of Changmin's stomach.

"Will… you have him whipped in front of the whole house tonight...?"

She looks right at him, and her piercing gaze is too intense for Changmin not to lower his eyes. "It works well, don't you think?"

Changmin swallowed and spoke to the ground, trying not to remember.

"...Yes, madam."

He fidgeted for a moment, but then looked up again.

"But… I still have a scar or two from that, and I thought, maybe, I might be able to help you keep his skin clean."

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. "Why, Changmin, I'm surprised to see this side of you."

Changmin didn't really know what she was thinking, but he kept still.

"Maybe this will be good for you after all," she said with a smile. "It will be an opportunity for you to learn the weight of responsibility."

_Maybe this is working._

Changmin nodded, though he didn't fully understand.

"Do what you want," she said with a chuckle. "I am not worried about the boy. He has nowhere to go anyway. I just don't want him to cause a disturbance."

A rare smile started to bloom on his face; he'd done it, he'd gotten permission to help the boy —

"But before you take this on, Changmin, I want you to know," she blew out a puff of smoke into Changmin's face, which he was keeping from grimacing at all costs, "if he does run, or cause a ruckus, know that you'll be punished alongside him."

It would be a lie to say that Changmin didn't second-guess himself, and he did hesitate.

But he had to try.

He nodded, only thinking of the boy's slumped-over form. "Yes, madam."

Maehwa laughed and with a flick of her hand, dismissed him.

Yunho was shaking.

No matter how much his body was telling him to give in, he had his teeth clenched, and he just reminded himself over and over that no matter what happens, he would never become a gisaeng — even if he died.

The humiliation and despair wasn't even an emotion he felt anymore as he sat tied to this tree. He couldn't hold his head up anymore and he had his head hung low, being so tired; he hadn't slept a single wink the entire time, and it took every single fibre of his being to stay conscious —

He startled as a piece of cloth fell over his knees, and he flinched. He looked up.

It was the boy that had refused to help him on the first night.

Yunho glared, or at least tried; his body wouldn't listen to him though, and he hung his head again before he could.

"Here."

The other boy was holding out a bowl of water.

It was instinctual to lurch forward to try to drink from it, but his consciousness stopped his natural urge to take the water as quickly as he could.

He turned his head away.

"You can have it," said the boy, and he actually held the bowl up to Yunho's lips for him to drink. Once his lips got wet, there was no stopping, and Yunho couldn't help but take the drink.

It was absolutely magical how quickly and how much better he felt, almost immediately. He let out a long breath after he finished the water, and before he could even orient himself, he felt the bonds around his wrists loosen.

"I won't," managed Yunho. "I won't be a gisaeng."

There was a long silence, and when he looked up, the boy was staring down at him unfeelingly.

"It's no use," he said calmly. "It doesn't matter how much you resist."

Yunho clenched his teeth while the other boy finished untying him.

"You are so lucky," the boy said quietly. He let the rope fall to the ground. "Come on. Let's go."

"Go where?" croaked Yunho. His throat still felt like sandpaper. He winced. "I won't —"

"Gods, will you stop being so stupid?" said the boy, rolling his eyes, and Yunho narrowed his own. "Get up."

The other boy took his hand, and started leading him somewhere.

"What's your name?" the boy asked as they walked.

Yunho hesitated warily for a second before answering.

"Yunho."

"I'm Changmin," he said, though Yunho didn't ask.

Yunho didn't reply. Not long after, they got to a small outhouse consisting of a number of rooms. Changmin led him into one of them, and only let go once they'd both entered the room and Changmin had slid the door shut.

It was small, but somehow, cozy; it was well lived in, but clean. He looked around warily while Changmin opened the small chest that was there. He rummaged through it for a bit, then pulled out a pair of clothes and threw them to Yunho.

"You can wear this. I'll be right back with more water and some food, okay?"

Changmin had just turned towards the door again when Yunho spoke.

"...What is this?"

Changmin turned back to look at him. "Clothes?"

"I mean, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to keep you alive. And dignified," he said, glancing down at Yunho for a second.

Yunho felt himself blushing, despite it all.

"You're with them."

"Of course I am," said Changmin easily. "I work here. And you're with us too. Because you work here now."

Yunho opened his mouth to argue, but Changmin shook his head and cut him off. "Look. I'm not putting myself through this to argue with you. Just put on the clothes. Please? I'll be right back."

It didn't take long for Changmin to be back with another bowl of water and some leftover porridge from supper. He loaded everything onto a small table and carried it to his room. He was just about to enter when the door opened, making him jump. It was a miracle that he didn't spill anything. Yunho was standing at the door, also looking surprised to see Changmin at the doorway.

"What are you doing?" asked Changmin suspiciously.

"N-Nothing," said Yunho, and he took backward steps into the room again.

Changmin sighed and set the table down on the floor. He was clearly about to run away, but at least he was clothed. He was starting to regret untying the boy after all.

Changmin wordlessly indicated for Yunho to sit, and then handed him the spoon.

He did sit and take it, but he didn't start eating.

Eventually, Changmin spoke. "You have to eat. Also I'm going to have to get to work soon, and I'd like to have you all cleaned up and tucked in before then, so please."

Yunho winced and looked up at Changmin. "I won't work here," he whispered.

Changmin frowned and sat in front of him. "Where did you come from?"

"Master Kim Sungkwan, from up the street," he blurted out, and as much as he hated his time there too, he found himself holding back tears. "I worked in labour."

Changmin nodded and looked away. "Okay."

For having asked the question, he didn't even seem that interested. But at least it felt natural to take the water bowl to his lips and drink it down. And then to pick up the spoon and start working on the porridge.

He was hungry and thirsty, after all.

"I came from the government before this," said Changmin, again, even though Yunho never asked. "I worked for the kitchens."

Yunho didn't think he really cared, but Changmin finally turned towards him and looked him in the eyes. "I was the exact same as you when I was brought here. I was just thinking about how I was going to run."

Yunho stopped spooning the porridge into his mouth and looked up at the other boy. "Why… didn't you…?"

"I already told you on the first day," said Changmin with a chuckle. "There's nowhere to run to. We have nothing."

Yunho looked back down at his food. He gripped the spoon harder. "So you decided to just… _be a gisaeng_?"

"I'm not a gisaeng," said Changmin. When Yunho looked up curiously, he added, " _Yet_."

Yunho grunted and put his spoon down. "I'm never going to be a gisaeng."

"Yes, you are," said Changmin quietly. "You have no choice."

"I'll refuse to," said Yunho adamantly. "If they kill me for it, so be it."

Changmin was silent for a moment, then pointed to the food. "Eat."

Yunho did.

"You've already been registered as a gisaeng, and so have I," said Changmin quietly. "And we will become gisaengs, no matter what you agree or don't agree to do."

"But —"

"But that doesn't mean that you have to sell yourself."

Yunho narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, a gisaeng who doesn't —"

"Listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you, because I am sure that if someone had explained this to me on the first day I was brought here, I would have fewer scars on my body right now."

Yunho's eyes were wide as they focused on Changmin.

"When we turn fourteen, we will become gisaengs, whether we like it or not, since we've been registered as such," explained Changmin, not for one moment taking his eyes off of Yunho. "But there is a high class of gisaengs that you can belong to, when you will never have to be touched. Your job is to perform music and dance, and to provide conversation and poetry — but never to go to bed with someone. That's what I'm going to try to be. You know madam?"

Yunho nodded and swallowed. The head lady of this gibang. The woman who had ordered for him to be tied on the first day.

"She belonged to that class, and never had to sleep with anyone. She was chosen to go into the palace and performed for the king and high officials on festival days."

Yunho was listening intently now, a frown of concentration on his face.

"You have to be very, very good at performing to belong to that class," said Changmin. "All you have to do is perform. And then, when you turn twenty-two years old, it'll be all over. And you can even become like madam, and run your own gibang and teach new gisaengs how to do all those things. It'll be like you're not even a slave."

Changmin put his hand on Yunho's shoulder.

"And let me tell you what class I'm never going to belong to," said Changmin, looking Yunho right in the eye. "It's for the gisaengs who never learned to read and write, or to sing or dance well. They have nothing to offer, so all they have is their body. I'm _never_ going to do like that. That's why I'm going to learn everything I can."

Changmin let go of Yunho, who had frozen still.

"Now, you can decide," said Changmin seriously. "You can decide which class of gisaengs you want to belong to. Whether you're going to learn the craft, or you're going to waste your time trying to run, or trying to resist meaninglessly. Because not being a gisaeng is not an option for you."

From a distance, Changmin heard his name being called impatiently, and he stood up instinctively and shouted back, " _I'm coming!_ " before turning to Yunho again, who was still unmoving and just staring at Changmin as if his soul had left his body. Unfortunately, Changmin had no more time to spend on Yunho. "I have to work. The blankets are over there. Sleep when you're done eating. I'll come back for the bowls later."

And with that, Changmin left the room — hoping, just hoping, that he would still be there when he got back from work at dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably stop starting new works when I have a hundred unfinished ones ;A; but I just had such feels for this AU that I had to write it. As always, reviews and feedback are always very much appreciated!


End file.
